It was just a game
by peeta-chips
Summary: In the point of view of the victor of the 71st Hunger Games, Kalipso. This is her struggle through life after the Games and her fight to live with herself over the loss of something she can't replace.
1. Remember

The first rays of sunshine break through my bedroom window in the wee hours of the morning. The light scatters on the hardwood floor of my Victor's Village home as I bring my head up from the pillow.

I hold myself there, sitting up in bed. My sleep was restless that night.

My exhausted eyes trace the rainbow of lights upon the floor while I block out the recurring nightmares of the night. The screams. The looks of horror in his eyes. The last breathe leaving his body. Those memories continue to haunt me even months after the Games.

No one told me how bad it would hurt.

When I got back from the Capitol to District 4, it was great.

I was showered with gifts from suitors. My house was adorned with letters of admiration daily. Small children came with their parents to my front porch, telling me of their dreams to grow up and live next door to me. To be a victor.

I would simply smile and encourage their goal, hiding my disgust at their eagerness to get into the arena. True, only a year ago, I was preparing myself to take the responsibility of bringing my District honor and glory by becoming to lone victor of the 71st Hunger Games.

It wasn't until I was brought back home that the flood of emotions I thought was pride turned to revulsion quickly.

After weeks of this constant reminder of my actions in the arena, I finally had some peace and quiet, which, as it turns out, was worse than the steady onset of fame.

My name was not shouted in the streets with celebration every night. That was nice. For a while. After a few days of silence at night, it began to eat away at me, pulling at my nerves.

This house, huge and solemnly empty except for my glowing mother, was all wrong. When presented with it, I was glad that my mother, finally proud of me, would be able to take care of herself.

My dad had died where he belonged, in the water. His heart gave up on him in the middle of the gulf. We made it without him. Mom was sad most of the time.

But I couldn't blame her. Her oldest son, my brother Odin, had moved out only months before and all she had left was me. A small, pathetic child of only 12 years old who sincerely was lost.

I felt the only way to make my mother whole again was to enter myself into the Games as a Career and fight until I was the last one standing.

It worked.

Now, just turning 17 next month, I was a hero for my District. For that, I was happy.

Glad that my District could be happy for one year until the next Games. Then they would have to watch the next groups get slaughtered, disheartening them even more.

I shake the idea of dying tributes once more from my head and pull myself out of my too-big bed. I drag myself to the window and pull back the curtains. The faint light of the rising sun glistens off of the water of the bay where Victor's Village is positioned in District 4.

I sigh as I see the cameras and the television screens already being set up in front of each of the 4 victor's homes.

Annie, the winner from last year, has already been done up by her stylist and is being led to her interview that will be played at a later time in the day, probably right before mine, which will be live.

I don't want to do this. Not today. It is exactly 4 months to the day that he was murdered. 4 months to the day that I watched the one hope I had in this life breath his last life.

I grit my teeth, reminding myself that I wouldn't cry about it again. I'm about to head back to my bed to calm myself down when I hear my name being called from downstairs.

"Kalipso, get your happy ass up and ready!" And there's Finnick.

Forget calming myself, I'm going to have to completely cut my senses off to get through today with Finnick. Here we go.


	2. Hurt

Finnick is at the foot of my stairs, about to pounce up them to get me, as I am walking down them. He was my mentor through the Games and though his attitude may be completely rude and standoffish, I know deep down he cares.

"Well, hello, lazy bones. Did you think it would be a good time to get up now that your stylists are just now coming in the door?"

As he says this, my stylist from the Games only 4 months ago, Zia, prances into the front door, decked out in her usual bubble gum pink bowl of hair and powder white skin.

Her miniscule waist seems to have gotten a few inches smaller. Her cheekbones are a bit more pronounced and her chin, a little sharper. Her unnatural, bright purple eyes gaze lovingly upon me as I force a weak, but true, smile towards her.

She squeals manically as she drops her handful of briefcases I assume are full of makeup and utensils to get my ready for my nationwide tour.

She falls into me and hugs me, pressing her surgically removed chest hard into me. Although she may be completely ridiculous looking, she most definitely means well.

"Darling, I have truly missed you more than is acceptable." She cries into my ear in her tight Capitol accent. Zia pulls away and wipes a tear from her eyes. "We must get to work! You can't look like you just got up from bed in your interview. You will look like the radiant victor you are."

She bustles up the stairs, not letting me get one Hello in to her. Finnick laughs at the confused look on my face.

"Too early for you?" I nod, still exhausted. He looks at me knowingly, wanting to say something. I don't acknowledge this look and turn to walk up the stairs after Zia.

"You still thinking about him?" Finnick says hesitantly.

"Finnick, I don't want to talk about it. You know that's all they will be talking about today. Just let me deal with it when it comes." I throw him a cheerless glare.

"Okay. I'm just preparing you. You'll be bombarded with people today. This prison you've put yourself in the past month in this house is not gonna help the shock you'll get today. Just saying."

"You don't think I'm aware? Is it so bad that I'm depressed? Did it not bother you after you Games what happened in there? Were you so heartless that you honestly didn't care about the lives you ruined?" I snap back.

"No, I did care. But, unlike you, I didn't get emotionally attached to the competition." He knows he had crossed the line the minute he says it. He swallows and leaves the house without a word.

I sigh in exasperation. He knew not to mention him. Finnick had no place to talk to me about it.

I go back upstairs to my over-sized bedroom to see Zia daintily placing all her equipment on my vanity. It's practically buckling under the weight of all of it. She notices me and smiles widely.

"Are you ready for your makeover? You've let yourself get very skinny while you've been away." Away. Like the Capitol was my real home and I was simply on vacation. That's a joke. That place will never be my home. It took away the one thing that I felt sure of in my only time of need.

I plop down on the vanity stool and stare at myself in the mirror for the first time in awhile. I was skinny. I guess refusing to eat anything of substance was taking a toll on my well being.

My naturally tan skin is becoming unfortunately pale and delicate looking. The eyes staring back at me in the mirror look dark and sullen despite the forever vivid blue hue of them. The long blond hair that was once full of volume and shine now lies limp and frizzy across my shoulders.

Zia looks at my disappointed look in my eyes. She pouts and tilts her head the side.

"You okay, Pookie?" The familiar pet name sparks memories of the first days of training before the Games. I wince as I remember coming back from the parade and Zia sashaying herself towards me, yelling about how her Pookie did so well.

That's the first time I saw him. District 5.

I push the memory away. No reason to bring these memories up till later.

Now was the time for Zia to work her wonders.


	3. Drop Bombs

And work her wonders she did. I walk out of my hairspray-filled room with a sense of renewal. Zia molded my hair into an intricate sort of updo to frame my newly refreshed face. A layer of makeup can really go a long way.

As I am led to my interview in the square, I hear in the distance the shrill horn of the fishing barges. It must be about 11 in the morning.

Finnick meets me in the square, nodding tersely at me. I see Mags and Annie sitting in front of the Justice Building, just finishing up their interviews. I wave at them.

Annie just won the Games the year before I did. She took it a little hard when her fellow tribute, Ides, had his head chopped off right in front of her. They were pretty tight in the Training Academy before they both volunteered. She went a little crazy when she got back home. The PTSD really hit her.

I hope that I don't seem like her to most people. I know what she is going through…

Finnick sees me staring at Annie and sighs in what he means to make out as annoyance.

But I know their secret.

Finnick has been in love with Annie since the day he started mentoring her last year. The only reason I know this is the looks. I recognize them. I knew what it was like. To love someone totally off limits.

I am not going to hear anything else all today. I prepare for the bombardment, silently as we head to the Justice Building.

Caesar Flickerman, the infamous Hunger Games TV host, is just touching up his makeup when I enter the Justice building. He flashes that toothy smile and stands up with is arms extended for me. I enter them.

"My dear Kalipso, how are you?" his sincere voice puts me at ease. I have forgotten how easy it is to talk to Caesar.

"I'm okay." I try to smile convincingly. He accepts it. "I'm ready to get this week over with."

"Well, that's not the spirit. This should be the most exciting time for you. You get to flaunt your victory to the whole of Panem." He says a matter of factly.

"Exactly." I say curtly as I sit on the posh blue couch that my interview will be conducted on. I can practically see Finnick's eyes rolling at me as I say it.

The cameras are already set up and the crew is beginning to pile in, telling us we only have 5 minutes till show time.

"Finnick. Shoo." Caesar light heartedly waves his hand at Finnick.

"Nice to see you too, Caesar." I hear him say as he exits the room.

Caesar focuses his attention on me. "So, Kalipso. I have to brief you about some of the obvious questions that are going to come up." Here we go.

"I'm going to ask you about life after the Games, of course. I have a few questions about your mother and your brother. Hale is going to pop up a few times."

It was all I could do not to scream. I haven't heard his name in more than 3 months. I had tried and tried to forget. And Caesar just ruined my progress.

I can't say that I didn't see this hurt coming. I just didn't expect it to be so sudden.

I just nod at Caesar until he is done talking, trying to get over hearing his name. It's not until I see one of the crew members counting down on his fingers from 5 that I realize I need to get my shit together before the cameras come on.

I plaster on the fakest smile I can and wipe the oncoming tears from my eyes just as the Caesar grin widens.

He introduces himself as the host to the 71st annual Hunger Games Victory Tour. He turns to me.

"And this, as you all know, is Kalipso Hydra, winner of the Games. Tell me, Kalipso, how has winning the Games changed your everyday life."

Me, being a natural good speaker, answers happily, "Well, Caesar, I do have a new house in Victor's Village, which is an amazing of course for my mother and I. People definitely notice me more."

Caesar gets a good laugh out of that. I'm such a good bullshitter.

"That's definitely an understatement! How is your family dealing with this new fame?"

I think of my mother and Odin. How Odin and I have barely spoken since my return. How mother, although more independent and proud of me, still could never get over the disappointment I caused her after my father died.

"They are both doing great, Caesar, thanks for asking."

I'm dreading the next question, because I know the pain is coming. I hear his name in Caesar's mind.

"That's great. Now, the question that the whole world is asking." Here it comes. "I know that you're glad you won the Games." God. "How are you dealing with the death of so many due to your hands?"

He didn't say it. He didn't say his name. Is he holding off for later?

I throw together an answer. "I feel that the deaths of the other 23 were necessary to the growth of this fine nation, to remind us of our irresponsibility towards the capitol nearly 75 years ago."

"What a valiant answer. I'm so glad that someone as young as you can appreciate the sacrifice the Districts must make." He pauses, thinking. "Now, I must ask. How are you making it without Hale?"

And he drops the bomb. I don't know how to answer. I start to hyperventilate. I'm screaming on the inside. I can practically see Finnick cursing me in the other room as he watches. I can see the people of District 5 judging me.

All I want is to get out of here and never see anyone ever again. Not Finnick or Caesar or Annie. Not my mom or Odin. No one.

I need time to think.

I close my eyes and go back to the day that changed my life.


	4. Chosen

"I volunteer as District 4 tribute." I stand up and raise my hand up in the air, proud and arrogant as I can allow.

The relieved young girl whose name had been called sighs and runs off stage into her sobbing mothers arms.

Weak. That's all I think of while I haughtily make my way up to the stage where Georgine Click, my new escort, is waiting. That little girl, probably only 13, is weak.

She is like me. Only 4 years younger and pathetic. I would never pass up this invitation to bring honor to my District for anything in the world. If my name had been called, I would have fought anyone who volunteered for my place. This is my time.

"What is your name, young one?"I don't like the way Georgine makes me seem so small.

I worked hard for these muscles. I was the strongest girl at the Training Academy, by a long shot. My strength and agility make up for my obvious height deficit. I am no one to be underestimated.

"My name is Kalipso Hydra." I smirk smugly, not trying to hide any of the pride emanating from me at this moment.

"Well, we all are, of course, glad to have you with us." Georgine pats my back and I stand up straighter, crossing my arms across my chest, trying to seem menacing.

"Time for our lucky boy!"

She goes flitting over to the globe of names, and plucks one right off the top.

"Our District 4 boy tribute is Haddix Retto!" Come on up Haddix."

Well good for him. He has been begin to volunteer since he was a first year in the Training Academy. This is his last year as a possible tribute, turning 18 just a month ago. By the next Hunger Games, it would be too late. Good thing no one beat him to it.

As he bounds up the steps to the stage, smiling ear to ear, I know he's going to be competition. His stocky build and huge arms as long as I am tall add to my wariness.

His cockiness is clearly exuded and for good reason. All the girls talk about how he has always been the most handsome and desirable boy at the Academy since we were preteens.

He is quite a catch. I'm pretty sure I've talked to him a total of two times and both times he attempted to get me to sneak away from my dorm and into his.

It almost worked once. I vaguely remember one time when I was 14, he caught me after weightlifting and we had a nice chat about how we needed to go get dinner one night. And then he continued to grope my ass as though he owned me. That got him a slap in the face. And years of ignoring by me. Well, not anymore, I guess.

We are told to shake hands as the whole of our district clap for us. I lean over slightly and take his hand lightly. He rubs the back of my hand with his forefinger and grins at me. I take back my hand quickly and disregard the action.

I have to keep a clear head if I'm going to be taken seriously in the games and gain much needed sponsors.

We are both led into the Justice building and to our own separate rooms to wait. Our last goodbyes will be made here.

I wait for my mother and possibly Odin to come into my room. Maybe Wren from the Academy to wish me luck.

I wait for what seems to be an hour and finally, as I'm looking you the window at the dispersing Reaping crowd, my door opens. I am happy to see my small mother make her way across to room to me. She looks solemn.

"Ma, what's wrong?" I struggle to see what could be bad about this situation.

I'm going to the Hunger Games. I'm going to win. I'm going to be the only thing that Panem will be able to talk about.

I'm going to be a Victor.

"I'm just so proud of you, dear." She smiles, though tears are coming from her eyes. "I love you so very much."

I hug her tightly, having to bend down slightly to hold her slight 4 foot 9 frame.

"I'm going to the Capitol, mom!" I'm going to win the Games! Isn't that exciting to you?" I pull back and my stomach drops.

Her eyes are filled with sadness and doubt. I see how she really feels, though her wide smile fights the obvious disbelief in her eyes.

"You think I'm going to lose." She just stares at me. "Mom, I did all this for you. I went to the Academy. I trained for 4 years! I just wanted you to be proud of me."

The Peacekeepers are coming in to take her away from me one last time.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I just can't believe it. You aren't coming back. I'm sorry. I love you." She leaves the room without any assistance from the guards.

I can't think. My mom doubts my odds. She thinks I'm going to die in the arena and cause her more disappointment.

I feel worthless. I went through all this for her. And she doesn't think I'm worth it. Well, I'll show her.

As I realize no one else is coming to say goodbye, I burst out of my room and make my way outside to the cars, against the Peacekeepers requests. I want to get on that train to the Capitol as soon as possible. I want to hole myself up for a few minutes. I want to be alone.

Georgine and Haddix climb in next to me. They are chatting about how exciting it will be to have two Careers fighting with each other. I scoff at this statement because it's always the same.

Two careers end up as the last two and one of them kills the other. That's just how it is.

I ignore the rest of their conversation and look out the window. There are people lining the streets cheering for me and Haddix. At least someone believes in me. No one that counts, sadly.

As soon as we enter the train station, I jump out of the car and into the train, not bothering with anybody.

The train is decked out in all Capitol accessories, down to the last doorknob.

I hear Haddix step in the compartment behind me, and Georgine behind him. Her high heels click noisily across the chrome floors.

"Where's my room?" I ask tersely.

"Can you just wait, dear? We are about to have lunch!" she sounds annoyed at my urgency to get away from her.

"I want to go to my room, just tell me where it is and I will gladly eat lunch when I'm done in there." I glare at her. She glares back, she points to the trains car behind me.

"Yours is there too, Haddix." I seem to have offended Georgine. God forbid.

I push past Haddix and through the automatic doors to my room. When I am safely in my room, I climb under my bed.

And there, I break down. All the tears and frustration that have built up over the years against anything at all come spilling out in the 5 quick minutes I allow myself. I cry over my brother and my dead father, leaving my mother and I when we needed him. My mother, disappointed and uncertain of her own daughter. Haddix, for making me doubt my own chances.

I let it out. I'm ready to go back out to eat after a whole of 6 minutes.

I check myself in the mirror and wipe the last of red from my cheeks.

I brush through my hair with my finger and leave my compartment, off to face the competition.


End file.
